


Blizzard

by dicksoutforproblematiccontent



Series: Blizzard AU (Joxter/Snufkin) [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: (Joxter and Snufkin shouting) ANARCHY!!! ANARCHY!!!!, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Hermaphrodites, I suppose, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Other, Parent/Child Incest, Porn With Plot, Purring, Sexual Inexperience, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Unsafe Sex, Wilderness Survival, cabin fever, casual incest, mumriks are intersex and you cant change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 23:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18883933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicksoutforproblematiccontent/pseuds/dicksoutforproblematiccontent
Summary: When the Joxter's forebodings fail him, he gets quite lost in a blizzard, and passes out.It's a lucky thing Snufkin finds him and takes care of him, though they soon both experience their instinctual need to keep moving around. In this weather, however, that's pretty much impossible, so all they can do is hope it passes soon.After the Joxter gets a wonderful idea to release some tension (and gain some extra heat), some societal rules are broken.Well. It's not like Mumriks ever truly cared about rules to begin with.





	Blizzard

**Author's Note:**

> Have you read all the tags? Yes? Good! If you've decided this is your cup of tea, please enjoy reading. If not, what are you still doing here? The back button is right there.
> 
> Obligatory "fiction is not the same as reality, what are you, three?" disclaimer. In short, don't like, don't read.
> 
> WARNING: There's a short part where Snufkin isn't into anymore, but they talk it out. Also, Snufkin accidentally hurts the Joxter during sex. Just a warning for those who may be squicked by that.
> 
> *edit* YOOOOO LOOK AT THIS AMAZING FANART LADS  
> https://disaster-flower-feral.tumblr.com/post/185638822789/blizzard-by-suck-my-cups
> 
> As a last note, I must thank my friends for being such amazing people and always beta-reading my fics! It means a lot to me that you guys do that, fellas. Here's to being friends for many more years!

The way the seasons changed always interested the Joxter very much. From winter to spring, with all the fresh life turning the world in a myriad of bright colours and shades, the start of the warmth that made him shed his fur. From spring to summer, with its heavy, hot sun that was oh-so pleasant to nap under. From summer to fall, with the trees shedding their leaves, but not before painting their forests in so many colours it was almost dizzying, and lastly, from fall to winter, when his fur would get thick again and white flakes would slowly fall down as he watched, as if covering the world in the most comfortable, prettiest blanket. Every season had its own little thing of beauty, and the Joxter endlessly appreciated how the land changed to suit its own needs, not caring one little bit about its inhabitants, and yet giving them all they could ever ask for.

Yes, nature was truly beautiful like this, the Joxter often thought as he wandered the world.

Today was not one of those days.

Today, the Joxter _loathed_ nature with all its whims and unpredictable turns.

It was mid-winter, and the Joxter had been on his merry way, smoking his pipe, humming little songs about everything and nothing, when one of his _forebodings_ hit him. Yes, he instantly knew, as he watched the many trees in the forest, all of which were covered in a thick layer of snow, that something _bad_ was about to happen. He’d been prepared for a hungry wolf, maybe a thief out to steal some of his food, so he’d readied his hunting knife and bared his teeth threateningly , hackles raised, completely prepared in the case of an ambush.

He _hadn’t_ been prepared for a snowstorm.

No, not just a snowstorm. A true _blizzard_ had hit him by the time he’d made it out of the forest, shivering and clinging to his hat, which threatened to fly away as the icy-cold winds flew by, making his coat whip around wildly. The snow was getting _everywhere_ ; under his scarf, in his boots, into his fur. His body heat was causing it to melt quickly, which soon led to him being absolutely _soaked_. Wet fur and clothes clung to his body, cooling him down even faster rather than providing the warmth they were intended for.

By the _Groke_ , he needed to find shelter, and fast. If he went on like this much longer, there was no question that he would freeze to death.

If he’d known the weather would get like this, he would’ve built a shelter hours ago, before the wind had gotten too strong. Something simple, just a hidey-hole in a bunch of snow that would keep the wind from getting in. If there were any farms or so around he would’ve broken in there, but in the middle of the forest like this… chances of finding any creatures with a proper house were slim.

It was times like these that he wished he wasn’t such a stubborn idiot who insisted on traveling with nothing but the clothes on his back, with maybe the occasional satchel of leftover food.

He hissed and flicked his tail in irritation as the wind changed direction, now flying into him head-on, cutting into his face like knives.  He was sure his whiskers were completely frozen solid by now. The snow had gotten so thick, he could barely see a meter in front of him. Trees appeared and disappeared, causing him to almost run into them as he squinted his eyes to keep the snow out of them to the best of his abilities.

He could _feel_ his temperature dropping by the minute. He was losing track of time, unsure of how long he’d been wandering like this. Had he seen that tree before? Was he walking in circles? He didn’t know. Everything just looked the same, endless white, endless cold that blurred his vision. He could barely see his hand in front of him now, the blizzard growing worse and worse.

He couldn’t feel his toes anymore. Nor his fingers, for that matter.

He _needed_ to find shelter.

Anything would do by now, but oh, how he wished he could curl up in front of a nice stove right now, warming his frozen paws. Maybe a soft carpet to sleep on, oh, yes…

He was a Mumrik, he was resilient. He’d been in many bad situation, situations that seemed impossible to survive, and made it out just fine. He was justly proud of his nature.

But even Mumriks have their limit.

He barely realized it when he hit his foot on something hard, before he was tumbling down, falling face-first into the snow with no time to catch himself on his arms.

Ouch.

Joxter struggled to lift himself up, barely being able to get his face out of the suffocating white, before his arms gave up on him, and dropped him down again.

His vision was tunneling.

He was cold. So, so cold.

So tired.

He shouldn’t sleep. He really shouldn’t. Sleeping in conditions like these would mean certain death, and all that would be left of him would be a frozen body for some stray animal to eat.

But by the Booble, he was so tired.

Maybe he could just close his eyes… just for a second…

Just… one… second…

A well-worn, pointy red hat flew away into the endless haze of white as its owner’s conscious left him.

* * *

 

 _Warmth_.

Pleasant, soft, _warmth._

A lovely tune.

Those were the first things the Joxter noticed as slowly, his consciousness came back to him, like a snail on a rainy summer day. He felt fuzzy, a bit confused as to where he was, though that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It wasn’t unusual of him to fall asleep in strange places, so as long as he wasn’t being chased out with pitchforks by some angry homeowner, Joxter was happy to continue his drowsing. He let out a soft, satisfied purr, his whiskers twitching in contentment.

The tune stopped suddenly.

“Oh. You’re awake.” A familiar voice reached his ears. “That’s good.”

The Joxter debated on ignoring the voice, but realization hit him like a train, and he couldn’t help himself when he opened his eyes to take a peek at his companion.

“Snufkin.” He breathed, slightly surprised to see his son sitting near the tent’s wall, covered in a thick scarf and coat, thicker than the one he’d last seen him in. His hat was sitting next to him, his son’s eyes unobscured by the large rim like they usually were, expressive and gentle, with a hint of worry behind them.

“Papa.” Snufkin replied with a nod while keeping his eyes on his father.

The Joxter had to wonder how he’d ended up in his son’s tent. What was the last thing he’d been doing again-?

Ah, right. Dying in a blizzard.

How quaint.

Snufkin’s eyes continued to stare at him, quiet and unblinking, so the Joxter stared right back at him.

In the end, Snufkin was the first to break the silence.

“You’re lucky I found you when I did, papa.” He said, finally blinking and ending their little staring contest. “You weren’t far from death, you know.”

The Joxter tilted his head with a small grin. “Heh. I’m quite lucky in that case, wouldn’t you say?”

“Only because you tripped over my tent, really.” Snufkin sighed, before continuing. “I’d imagine if you’d fallen even a few more meters away, you’d be frozen solid right now.” Snufkin’s eyes glinted with… something. “I didn’t take you for such a careless type, papa.”

“Well, what can I say, Snufkin?” Joxter sat up to talk to his son better, the blankets he’d been nestled into falling to his hips, exposing fur with patches of naked skin on his chest and belly.  It was sort of chilly, but that didn’t bother Joxter too much. “I haven’t got a care in the world, aside from perhaps a park keeper putting up signs, and rules telling me I can’t do things.”

“Living day by day, hm?”

“Like a true Mumrik should.” Joxter confirmed.

“I can’t say I disagree,” Snufkin crossed his arms, “but perhaps you should take care not to get lost in blizzards anymore.” With a sigh, Snufkin took his hat from the ground next to him, and put it on, partially obscuring his face. “I wasn’t certain you would pull through, papa. Your hands and feet were completely frozen solid. It’s a miracle they didn’t freeze off, though I can’t say anything about if there’s any feeling left in them. You’ll have to tell me that yourself.”

The Joxter smirked, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Aw, were you scared your papa was going to die? That’s adorable. You of all people should know that we Mumriks are made of tougher stuff than that.”

“Perhaps so,” Snufkin tilted his head so his eyes were visible to Joxter once more, expression stoic, “but I’d hate it so if my dear father succumbed to something like this, and trust me, you were very close.”

The way he said ‘dear father’ made something in the Joxter’s heart squeeze in joy, but ah, that wasn’t really important now, was it?

“Well, either way, I suppose I ought to be grateful,”  which he was, truly, “though I have to ask, where are my clothes?”

“Drying.” Snufkin answered shortly. “They were soaked, but with the weather being as it is, it’s hard to dry them without freezing them also.”

“So it’s still storming outside?” the Joxter asked.

A harsh blow of the wind made the entire tent tremble.

“Take that as your answer.” Snufkin said, before he started to fiddle with his pack of belongings. It didn’t take long, before he pulled out some dried berries with a small noise of triumph.

Joxter’s belly rumbled. When was the last time he’d eaten again?

Without even having to be asked, Snufkin handed some of them over to his father.

Joxter immediately started stuffing them into his mouth, the long dried pieces of fruit no longer juicy or fresh, but satisfying nonetheless. Snufkin, on the other hand, ate more subdued, taking his time to chew and taste the sweetness of the food.

A comfortable silence settled between them as they each ate their share, the only sound heard being the occasional smacking noise and, of course, the howling wind. It was rather nice, if the Joxter had to say it, just some good quality father-son bonding.

If one ignored the “almost freezing to death in a blizzard” part, of course, but in Joxter’s eyes, that was already behind them, and therefore not important anymore.

When the food was done, Snufkin returned to his harmonica, playing songs about everything and nothing while the Joxter laid back down, curling his tail around himself as he hoisted the blankets back up to his neck. A satisfied purr rumbled through his chest as he hummed along to the songs he knew, and intently listened to the ones he didn’t. He hadn’t expected to run into Snufkin, especially not under _these_ circumstances, but he was glad that he had. No, not just because Snufkin saved his life, but he was just genuinely having a good time.

Eventually, Snufkin put his harmonica away with a yawn. Joxter wasn’t sure what time it was, but it had to be late. Snufkin had such a longing look on his face while watching his father laying there, curled up and cozy under the blankets.

Joxter took the hint, and shuffled to the side, making room for his poor, tired son. He imagined that, though his boy didn’t show it, he must’ve been rather spooked by finding his father near-death like that, and that it must have tired him out quite a bit.

Gratefully, Snufkin crawled under the blanket next to his father, just a little bit of room left between the two of them so they weren’t quite touching, but Joxter closed that distance with a happy purr, uncaring that he was wearing nothing but some underwear, nor that it startled Snufkin. Snufkin was so nice and warm while the tent was so cold and chilly…

Eventually, Snufkin relaxed somewhat, a quiet purr of his own joining his father’s as the two of them drifted to sleep in the cold winter night.

* * *

 

The following days, the blizzard was very slow to go away. While it was too dangerous to go outside, Joxter and Snufkin simply talked, talked about their own adventures, their experiences, or just about nothing important at all. Sometimes they sat in an amicable silence for hours, or napped together under the covers, sharing body heat to keep warm.

All in all, it was quite enjoyable, but it was feeling a bit claustrophobic. Mumriks weren’t made to stay in a small space like this for so long. The most of the outside world they saw was checking if the storm had died down enough yet to start traveling again, or at least hunt for some prey. Dried fruit and the occasional piece of jerky was fine, but the Joxter longed for the taste of fresh meat and warm blood on his tongue. Not to mention, he was starting to feel restless, his limbs prickling with the need to stretch, to run, to do _something_. The tent was barely large enough to stand up in, let alone walk around a few laps.

Snufkin felt it too. The Joxter saw it in his mannerisms, his way of talking. The way he fidgeted with his hands, his harmonica, and his bag were starting to grow frantic in a way that betrayed his own cabin-fever.

Indeed, Mumriks like them were not made for staying still this long.

Joxter could not _wait_ until this horrid blizzard went away, pleasant as catching up- and being with Snufkin in general- had been. He hadn’t really been paying attention to how many days went by (he rarely did), but he was sure it must’ve at least been 5 days now. Surely normal blizzards didn’t last this long? No, no they didn’t, he’d seen plenty of blizzards before, they rarely lasted this long this far to the south.

He wasn’t really that surprised when his son spoke up later that day, saying he was going outside to see if maybe it was clearing up a little further down, in which case they wouldn’t have to be stuck here for much longer. Of course, if that was the case, they could just wait it out, it would be the smarter option, really, but Joxter wasn’t going to stop his boy.

No use stopping a stir-crazy Mumrik when they decided they’d had enough of being stationary. Joxter would’ve gone along, but he was wary about the way his feet, tail, and hands hurt when they got even the slightest bit cold. It wasn’t wise to aggravate them even further, he was certain, so he occupied himself by napping some more while Snufkin was away.

He wasn’t sure how long Snufkin stayed out, but it was dark by the time his son returned, shivering and wet with molten snow.

Now, Joxter wasn’t one to worry about anything, much less the weather, but the annoyed look in Snufkin’s eye, along with the irritated mumbling as he threw off his soaked clothes set off Joxter’s _forebodings_ alarm bells.

“I take it this storm isn’t going away anytime soon?” he asked, hoping against hope that his forebodings were wrong this time, that he was missing something.

Snufkin’s dismayed look said all that needed to be said, and the Joxter sighed in exasperation.

“I _hate_ being trapped like this.”

“That makes two of us.” Snufkin said as he threw off the last pieces of his drenched clothing, barely making an attempt to spread them out next to the Joxter’s own clothes, which weren’t necessarily _wet_ anymore, but they looked _frozen_ , making them unwearable for the moment.

The Joxter came to the startling realization he’d never seen his son without his signature clothes before. Even when he was swimming in the river or the sea with his friend, the Moomintroll, he rarely took off his coat.

How odd, yet how very Snufkin-like.

There was probably some sort of rule that said that fathers should not look at the bodies of their adult sons when they weren’t paying attention, but then, Mumriks weren’t known for their penchant to follow rules, were they?

Certainly not Joxter.

So the Joxter looked, silently looking for the differences between himself and Snufkin. The Mymble genes certainly showed, Snufkin’s fur being much less dense than that of a full-blooded Mumrik, barely covering his legs and arms. He was also much softer than the Joxter, rounder in places where Joxter was all sharp angles. Oh, Snufkin was very angular too, pretty thin, but… he had that certain Mymble look to him that made them stand out less.

Pretty attractive, the Joxter decided, happy with himself. Oh, he probably shouldn’t think like that about his son, really, but…

Snufkin’s eyes met his, and it was like a spark went down his spine.

Oh dear, what was this?

“Something wrong, papa?” Snufkin asked, lips still blue and trembling from the cold.

“Hrmph.” Joxter didn’t reply right away, his bright blue eyes peering at his son. “Nothing. Just thinking. Feeling kinda stir-crazy. You know how it is.”

“Hm.”

Joxter continued to think. These were some very… sudden feelings. But then, he supposed he’d never really gotten a good look like this at his son before, no?

If he was honest, it almost felt like when he saw the Mymble for the first time. How strange.

Perhaps not so strange, though. Snufkin _was_ the Mymble’s child, after all, and part Mumrik too, which only sweetened the deal. The Mymble… had been fantastic, for their brief stint, but she was still a Mymble.

Hmm…

Snufkin, for his part, had crawled under the blankets, huddling close to Joxter in search of his body heat. Poor boy was colder than the Joxter  previously realized, skin feeling like an icicle wherever it touched his, the occasional full body shiver causing his teeth to clatter together.

Hmmmmm…

Perhaps he could…

If Snufkin was okay with it…

“Snufkin,” he said, something playful in his voice, “I have a proposal for you.”

Snufkin opened his eyes, meeting his father’s sky-blue eyes, and let out a questioning hum.

“What is it, papa?”

The Joxter grinned, caressing his paw up and down Snufkin’s trembling body. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s new.” Snufkin answered with a grin of his own, tone teasing.

“Hey, a bit of respect isn’t dreadfully out of place here, Snufkin.” Joxter chided playfully, before his face turned semi-serious. “I mean it, though, so listen to me.”

Snufkin nodded, not answering vocally.

That was fine.

“We’ve both been going crazy with the lack of activity here. You know it, I know it, we both feel it. We’re Mumriks.”

“You’ve told me this only minutes ago, papa.”

“Let me finish!” Joxter tutted disapprovingly, but went on. “It’s also awful cold in here, don’t you think? With no clothes on, just our own fur and some blankets, it’s almost enough to freeze to death.”

“I think we’ve been managing fine, honestly.”

“Oh will you- Who raised you to interrupt people when they’re speaking?”

Snufkin snorted. “Clearly not you.”

“Har-dee-har. Real funny.” Joxter stated with a deadpan expression, before continuing on. “Alright, here’s what I wanted to ask you. Now remember, if you don’t like it, just say so, but promise to at least consider it. Understood?”

“Papa, please stop acting so mysterious. If you have something to say, just say it.” Snufkin huffed.

“Fine, fine.” Joxter exhaled through his nose, feeling his whiskers tickle Snufkin. “I was thinking we should… share some extra heat, if you know what I mean.”

“We… are already doing that?” Snufkin said, a bit confused. “I don’t see how we can improve much more on this.”

The Joxter almost wanted to laugh at his son’s innocence, but kept a straight face. “No, no, Snufkin. I meant we should sleep together.”

“We’re also already-“

“Snufkin, please,” he dragged his paw down his face in frustration, “I meant we should have a romp.”

Snufkin’s eyes widened as the words clicked. “Oh- oh, you meant-?”

“Sword fighting. Wet noodle slapping. The horizontal mambo.” He leaned closer to Snufkin’s flustered face. “Sex.”

“I- You-?” Snufkin stuttered out, embarrassed. “You’re my father.”

“I suppose I am.” The Joxter propped himself on his elbow, looking down on Snufkin.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not something you’re supposed to do.”

“You’re saying that as if we Mumriks care about what you’re supposed to do.” Joxter laughed. “Snufkin, I’ll be honest. I think you look mighty fine, and I definitely wouldn’t say no to a good fuck.”

“Language, papa.”

Joxter harrumphed. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve only known of your existence for maybe two years. These few days, I think we’ve talked more than in those two years combined.” He sighed, poking between his teeth with his claws, trying to fish out a stray seed that had gotten stuck. “It’s not like you can really say we’re a functional family to begin with. What’s something like this gonna do to change that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Snufkin didn’t reply, staring at the Joxter, before suddenly turning over on his back, squinting at the ceiling with a concentrated look on his flushed face. He glanced back at Joxter, who was just laying there, face casual.

“Give me a minute to think about this.” He finally said, voice unsure.

The Joxter nodded. “Take all the time you need.”

Silence settled between the two of them as Snufkin looked away from the Joxter again, focused on the ceiling of their tent. Joxter made himself comfortable, closing his eyes. While Snufkin thought about this, he might as well take a nap. Get away from the uncomfortable caged feeling he had in the waking world.

Time passed, and Joxter started to feel himself slip away to dreamland, when he was awoken by Snufkin speaking.

“Okay.” He said, shortly.

“Hmmrrp?” the Joxter opened an eye, glancing at Snufkin. “Okay what?”

Snufkin huffed, giving his father an annoyed look. “You know what I’m talking about, papa.”

The Joxter grinned playfully, sitting up on his elbows. “Of course Snufkin.” He stretched himself with a yawn. “But you gotta give me more info than that, silly boy. Tell me what it is that you’re okay with.” He looked Snufkin in the eye, suddenly serious. “I’d rather not do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Papa, please.” Snufkin said, bashfully looking away from the Joxter’s piercing eyes. “It’s just a tumble together, yes? There’s not that much that I don’t like. Though…” he hesitated, “I’m not sure where to start.”

“Well, a little making out never hurt anyone.” The Joxter replied, rolling a little closer to Snufkin. “How would you like that?”

“Oh, that should be fine, I suppose.” Snufkin turned his body towards the Joxter, now face to face with his father. “I’ll trust you to lead this. I’m not very… ah, you know.”

“Not much experience, huh?” Joxter chuckled, much to Snufkin’s embarrassment, if the way his face flushed again was any indication. “That’s fine. I’ll show you how to properly do this.” He gently grabbed Snufkin’s chin, trying to tilt it a little. “Here, turn your head like this so we can- yes, like that. Good.” He exhaled, just a little nervous despite himself. “I’m going to kiss you now, Snufkin.”

Snufkin nodded a little, eyes focused on Joxter’s. “Okay.”

With Snufkin’s consent, the Joxter leaned in, slightly pursing his own lips, before capturing those of his son. Snufkin’s eyes closed, and so did his, because honestly, kissing with your eyes open was just a little weird. Joxter allowed himself to set a rhythm, moving his lips against Snufkin’s, who clumsily followed his example, but quickly grew more confident after getting the hang of it a little. Fast learner. Good.

Snufkin subconsciously started kneading at the Joxter’s chest, a content purr rumbling from his own, which almost caused the Joxter to chuckle, if he were not so busy locking lips with the other. He matched Snufkin’s purr with one of his own, the combined sound creating a quite relaxed atmosphere.

Yeah, this was pretty nice, if Joxter had to say so himself. Snufkin was growing bolder, allowing a bit of tongue to lick Joxter’s lips every now and again, until Joxter opened his mouth a little, meeting Snufkin’s with his own. This caused a startled sound to escape Snufkin, and he almost pulled away, but recovered rather quickly, pushing even closer. The kiss was growing a bit sloppy, and Joxter felt Snufkin’s hands wander from his chest to his butt, where he continued his insistent kneading, pushing his hips forwards so their genitals pushed together, creating some very, very nice friction as their penises met.

Joxter felt Snufkin pull away from the kiss, and let him, opening his eyes again to observe his son’s reactions. Snufkin’s face was flushed, his mouth slightly agape and reddened, his eyes half-open in pure contentment as his purring grew even louder.

A beautiful sight, truly.

The Joxter pecked Snufkin’s nose gently, lovingly, before allowing his hands to wander downwards. Snufkin let out a choked moan when Joxter touched his dick, jerking it in an up and down motion a few times, before wandering lower, _lower_ -

Snufkin couldn’t help but hide his face into the Joxter’s shoulder as his paw met his slick pussy, gently stimulating his vulva.

The Joxter smiled sweetly. “Is this okay?” he asked, circling Snufkin’s entrance, not quite penetrating him with his fingers, but gathering up the fluids that escaped Snufkin.

Snufkin nodded, shifting his hips forwards into the Joxter’s hand.

The Joxter took that as an okay, and pushed his finger fully into Snufkin’s pussy.

Snufkin made a conflicted sound. Everything had been very nice up until now, and the Joxter’s finger felt quite good, really, but it was also a little weird.

“Shh, it’s okay, Snufkin.” Joxter murmured, petting Snufkin’s hair with his other hand. “Just let yourself feel.”

He continued mumbling sweet nothings, but Snufkin tensed up some more. He was still purring and moaning, but it sounded… less relaxed than before.

Worried, the Joxter slowed his ministrations. “Snufkin,” he said calmly, reassuringly, “you can tell me if you don’t like this. I’ll stop, I promise.”

Snufkin paused, his purring coming to an abrupt halt. He buried his head even further into the Joxter shoulder, a tremble running through his body.

“Snufkin,” the Joxter spoke again, “please, tell me how you feel right now. Come on, I’m not continuing if I think you don’t like it.”

“…” Snufkin didn’t reply for moment, but mumbled something into Joxter’s shoulder, quietly.

“I didn’t get that, Snufkin.” Joxter said, petting his back. “A little louder, love.”

Snufkin pulled away from the Joxter’s shoulder, looking utterly embarrassed, before repeating himself.

“I’m… not sure I like it when you… hmm…” He stuttered a bit, self-conscious. “I liked it better when you were… not inside me?”

“That’s fair enough, Snufkin.” The Joxter pulled his finger out of Snufkin, who breathed a sigh of relief. “Would you rather I leave your vagina alone altogether?”

Snufkin nodded. “I… I think so, yes. Not that it wasn’t good!” he quickly added. “It’s just-“

“it’s okay to have preferences, Snufkin. It’s also okay to figure them out as we go along.” The Joxter shifted, letting his hand wander back up to Snufkin’s dick, pumping it, which caused Snufkin to let out a pleased little mewl, his purring starting up again. Joxter purred in return, a small smile on his face as Snufkin buried his face into his shoulder again, kneading at the Joxter’s back.

“That’s a good boy, Snufkin.” The Joxter praised. “Does that feel nice?”

Snufkin hummed in confirmation, a purr-y moan escaping him.  His nails dug into the Joxter, most likely subconsciously.

“Mmm, it does, doesn’t it?” Joxter kissed Snufkin’s hair lovingly, petting it once or twice with his free hand, before he started sliding it down his own body. Giving Snufkin pleasure was nice and all, but…

He let out a happy sigh upon reaching his own dick, jerking it. He used the slick from his own pussy to add some lubrication, blissfully purring as he humped into his own hand, while still holding onto Snufkin, who groaned in pleasure every time their dicks touched.

The Joxter didn’t change it up much for a little while after that. Snufkin was having a good time, and so was he, and oh did this ever feel nice, but he was really craving a little more now.

“Snufkin,” he said, a little breathlessly, slowing down his ministrations, catching Snufkin’s attention, “would you like to be inside of me?”

Snufkin tilted his head up, questioning look on his red face. “Will it not hurt for you, papa?” He asked carefully.

Joxter laughed, playfully nuzzling into his son’s hair. “Not at all, love. I’m a lot more used to it than you.” He grinned. “I enjoy it a lot, in fact.”

“In that case… I think I’d like to, yes.” Snufkin nodded in confirmation.

“Good.” The Joxter cackled, before letting go of both his and Snufkin’s dicks altogether, before grabbing Snufkin by the hips, and flipping him so that he was sitting on top of him, at which Snufkin let out a startled yelp. “There,” he said with a grin, “I’ll let you set the pace.” He laid back, his grin turning into a lazy smile as he spread his legs a little further, putting himself on full display.

If Snufkin could get any redder, he probably would. His hand hovered over Joxter’s genitals, not quite sure if it was okay to touch him. Joxter had to laugh a bit at his inexperienced, hesitant son, but he wouldn’t rush him.

“It’s okay, Snufkin. You can touch me.”

Snufkin bashfully huffed, a little of that typical Mumrik defiance coming out, but it went away as quickly as it came. With a few more moments of anticipation, he gently cupped the Joxter dick, feeling it, committing it to memory, before he went lower. He seemed a bit unsure of what to do, helplessly looking at the Joxter as he tried doing what he thought might feel good.

Joxter’s face softened, letting out small hums and ah’s as Snufkin touched him. “Good, good,” He complimented, “you’re a natural. Now…” he gently took Snufkin’s hand, and led it to his entrance. “Line yourself up, then push in. I’ll spread ‘em a little further if you like.”

Snufkin looked a bit bewildered. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” The Joxter confirmed, letting go of Snufkin’s hand. “You can tell me if you don’t want to anymore, though.”

“No, no it’s fine. I want to.” Snufkin said, shuffling around until his hips were aligned with the Joxter’s, taking a hold of his erection to keep it steady, concentrated look on his face.

Joxter was about to say something else, when all the breath was knocked out of him as Snufkin pushed in.

Harshly.

The Joxter sputtered, flailing his arms until the grabbed hold of Snufkin’s shoulders, barely suppressing a hiss. Okay, he did say just push in, but maybe he should’ve been more specific about _not_ just using your dick as a battering ram. Fucking ouch.

The look on Snufkin’s face was delightful, though. All blissed out, a bit confused at what he was feeling, but high on pleasure nonetheless.

“Oh, oh, papa- you feel so good- oh-“ he was rambling, humping into the Joxter like a feral animal, unaware about the world around him.

Yes, it truly was a pretty sight, but…

Joxter grimaced, and shook Snufkin’s shoulders.

“Snufkin- Snufkin! Slow down a little, will you?!”

“Huh?” Snufkin seemed to snap out of his animal-like haze, “What?”

“I said- dammit boy- slow down! You’re hurting me!”

“Oh!” guilt flashed on Snufkin’s face, and he immediately went still, as unmoving as a rock. “I’m sorry, papa, you said-“

“Yes, yes, I said I could take it. And I can!” He squawked, embarrassed. “But Snufkin, you gotta give me a bit of time to adjust. Don’t just ram your dick into me like a jackhammer without warning, okay?”

“Okay,” Snufkin nodded, letting out a shuddering breath, “okay. Sorry.”

“Quit apologizing, Snufkin. What’s done is done.” The Joxter huffed, before rotating his hips a bit, feeling it out. “Now, you can move, but start a bit slower, okay?”

Snufkin tried again, much slower this time, and Joxter breathed a sigh of relief. That was much better, and he said as much to Snufkin.

Snufkin responded with a small smile, and pecked his father’s nose briefly. The Joxter grinned, and pulled him in for a proper kiss, putting his legs around Snufkin’s back to encourage him. He started letting his moans escape him, purring loudly to show that he was enjoying it now as he moved his hips upwards to meet Snufkin’s thrusts.

Snufkin was babbling into the Joxter’s mouth, eyes unfocused and clouded with pleasure. It was obvious that he was already losing control again, but this time the Joxter let him, having grown quite used to the intrusion now. He even welcomed it, groaning and mewling whenever his son pushed deep, deep inside him, hitting all the right spots. Oh, it was clumsy and inexperienced, but Snufkin’s enthusiasm made up for it a thousand fold.

Spots were dancing all over the Joxter vision, a coil tightening in his lower stomach. He was getting close to release, and he was sure Snufkin was too, so he didn’t hesitate to take a hold of his own dick, adding to his pleasure with pleased yowls and gasps. Snufkin was so big, so good inside him, so hard-

Something splashed inside of him as Snufkin pushed as deep as he could, his breath cutting off in a silent scream, uncomprehending, uncaring about anything happening around him. His orgasm shuddered visibly through his, rope after rope of cum coating the Joxter’s insides.

Joxter hissed as he starting jerking himself with more vigor, pushing himself closer, closer, his breaths coming out in short gasps, his other hand clawing and poking holes into the blanket, but he couldn’t care less, because the heat was building, building-

He lost himself in his own orgasm only moments later.

Some time passed as they both finally came down from their respective highs, dreamily staring in front of themselves. Snufkin had dropped himself on top of the Joxter like a sack of potatoes, heavy and unmoving, and while Joxter didn’t mind that much, he felt himself unable to breathe properly.

“Snufkin,” he said lazily, “you’re heavy. Get off.”

“Hmrrp.” Snufkin huffed, but complied, lifting himself up and off of Joxter, his now soft dick slipping out of the Joxter with a slurping noise, much to his embarrassment. He didn’t linger on it, though, and dropped himself next to the Joxter without much grace.

“So,” Joxter said, glancing at his exhausted son from the side, blue eyes still somehow piercing, “how was that?”

“Hmm,” Snufkin hummed, “pretty good, I’d say.”

Joxter laughed breathlessly. “Of course. My pussy is the best pussy around, you know?” he drummed his finger playfully along Snufkin’s hip. “Not every random bloke gets to fuck me like that, you know?”

“Papa,” Snufkin buried his head into his hands, “language, please.”

“Heh, still? After all that?” the Joxter huffed, but there was a laugh in there. “Well, it doesn’t matter I suppose. I had a good time, at least.”

“I’m glad.” Snufkin said with a huge yawn. “I’m… I’m really tired all of the sudden.”

“Yeah, sex will do that to you.” Joxter playfully replied, but soon let out a big yawn himself. “Say what, Snufkin, we’ll clean this mess up later, how about a nap for now?”

Snufkin didn’t even reply, having already fallen asleep.

Joxter chuckled.

“Guess that answers that.”

* * *

 

The following morning, the blizzard _finally_ let up, and by the Booble, Joxter had never been so happy to step outside a tent. His clothes were still quite cold, but at least he could wear them now. Snow had built up everywhere around them, but with the sun that peeked through the forest ceiling, it would probably thaw soon enough.

He and Snufkin agreed that, even though there was still a lot of snow, they couldn’t bear to stay put anymore. Snufkin was going further south, where such blizzards or snowstorms didn’t appear, or at least only very rarely, while Joxter was going west, just because he felt like it. He liked Snufkin well enough, but he longed for solitude after being forced to stay in such close proximity with the same person for days on end.

The both of them spend the entire morning breaking down the tent, packing up everything of Snufkin’s, and then hunting for food. Both of them almost drooled at the thought of a nice, fresh piece of meat, grilled above a campfire, still dripping with blood, so when the Joxter came back with a rabbit between his teeth, Snufkin quickly turned the meat into a delicious meal for them both.

After all was said and done, they said their goodbyes, not really promising to see each other again soon, mostly because their lifestyles didn’t suit it. Snufkin did mention he was going to Moominvalley again for spring, though, but besides that and few choice words, not much more was said before they parted ways.

Joxter thought about Moominvalley. Perhaps he should visit there somewhere between spring and next winter, too. But ah, he didn’t really have anything to do there. Besides Moominpapa and Snufkin, he barely knew anyone there.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something red, stuck in a branch.

“Oh!” he exclaimed in surprise, caught off guard by what he saw.

His hat!

It was a bit torn, and covered with snow, but after closer inspection, still perfectly useable.

With a laugh, he put it on his head again. Must’ve been a sign of good things to come.

Perhaps he should visit Moominvalley after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> https://twitter.com/Foxyinferno321


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